


Perfect, Beautiful, Clean Obsessed

by flordecai



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Monica and Chandler are such a good couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flordecai/pseuds/flordecai
Summary: What happens to Monica and Chandler after their twins leave the nest?





	Perfect, Beautiful, Clean Obsessed

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend who was bored and I thoroughly regret my life decisions. Friendo, I blame you for this.
> 
> Also, if you want to add to the experience, below is a link to the spotify playlist I had running while writing this. Go nuts.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/ravenclaw.riley/playlist/3LsoT4PUioYLxAjYwb9NoH

_ The house was clean, but not Monica Clean. _

_ Normally she wouldn't let rust build up around the stove top like Chandler had allowed, oh no rust was a no go with her. She would clean under the burners every day if she could spare time- which she could with her job at the local Italian restaurant, Cena alla Tribbiani, which she opened within a few months after the twins turned ten. After opening the restaurant their schedules were synced more and the twins were able to have their adoptive parents around more often. It was like a dream come true: a close family, a clean house, and dream jobs for both adults. _

* * *

“Chandler, you're aura’s all gloomy lately.” Phoebe huffed, pinching at the air around him as her husband rubbed her other arm gently.

“Phebs, please stop cleansing my aura- it makes it a little hard to pout with you doing the whole positive flow stuff.” The man sighed, trying to move away from his friend but finding no escape with Joey sitting next to him.

“You doin’ okay?” His old roommate asked, concern on his face. In his old age Tribbiani had matured, settling down with a girl in upstate- his career as a soap opera actor long in the past as he moved on to bigger deals, like genuine TV shows that aired regularly. His wife had been in one of his films and ever since they were never able to part from each other. While the marriage did not yield any children, the two remained happy and would continue their bliss past their ripened age of now fifty-seven and fifty-nine. Julia was the perfect fit for Joey and he made it his goal to give her everything he could to make her glow with happiness.

“Yeah…” Mr. Bing murmured, eyes focusing on the cup of coffee in front of him. “I… I keep expecting her to come in with Rachel, bragging about something they bought…”

Ross looks at Chandler, leaning over to pat his friend’s shoulder. “Chandler I… I think maybe you should talk to the twins, get out of the city for a while…”

“Yeah, go hiking or fishing- get your mind off… Off of things.”

“Well I don’t think fishing is a good idea.” Chimes Phebs, blinking seriously at the others.

“Why on earth would-”

“Well you know, fish, sushi, Monica once worked at a sushi restaurant. Duh.”

“... Pheobe, if I think of sushi while catching trout we might need to check me into a home.”

“Well you already have a home, why would we get you another?”

“Oh god Phebs…”

* * *

 

_ Chandler had decided to clean the house, knowing it wouldn’t be sparkling clean like his wife preferred, but the jester would be accepted… He hoped.  _

_ Monica could be like a desert thunderstorm, changing intensity and direction just because the wind changed direction. While he liked to say he understood her like no one else could, he genuinely never knew when her rampages would hit or what they would be about. But there was one guarantee and that was they would be able to work through whatever storm came over them. And that was all he needed. _

_ So when Monica went out of town for a trip to the city for a girls’ weekend with Rachel and Phoebe, Chandler took the opportunity to clean the house for her and prepare a romantic welcome home surprise for her.  _

_ I _ _ t was only in their late forties and early fifties that they started getting back to the romance they had neglected early on in their marriage- not that the spark wasn’t there, things were just simple and out right back then. Now it was like they were dating again, except he didn’t have to sneak across the hall the next morning to avoid their friends uncovering their relationship upgrade. The small, cute and romantic things like a bed covered in rose petals with candles lit around the room were things they finally started doing for each other, free from the burden of children witnessing things they honestly never should see their parents doing.  _

_ This time, however, Chandler had gone all out. _

_ Instead of rose petals, he chose things that were significant for them- he bought Monica’s favorite flower, white lilies, and spread the petals all over the bed. The candles were still involved, but they were vanilla scented- similar to the ones they used when taking bubble baths back when they first began dating. And instead of having classical music playing, he made a mixtape for her, involving songs from their wedding and from their trip to London for Ross’ epically failed second wedding. Everything was perfect, the lighting, the timing, everything. He had even timed it to the exact  _ second _ , wanting his plan to run as smoothly as possible. _

_ And then it didn’t. _

* * *

 

Chandler too the next three weeks off from work, going down to Jersey where his son and his boyfriend/fiance had a house on the shore. It was nice to spend some quality time with Jack, allowing them to reminisce just a bit before finding things to joke about. 

The Bings had never held back being honest with their children, even about the fact that they had adopted Erica and Jack when they were born. But they made sure to have it perfectly clear that the twins were the best thing to ever happen to Monica and Chandler, the two never wanting their children to ever think they were never loved. And their philosophy seemed to work, their children growing to be strong, independent and functioning human beings, who didn’t own a gay bar in Vegas (of which Chandler was so proud).

“Dad, I’m really glad you came down for a few days.” Jack smiled at his father as he brought out two cups of coffee to the patio that overlooked the beach sunrise they had woken early to see.

“So am I, I really needed this.” Chandler hummed, taking the coffee cup and staring at the beach again. The sun hadn’t fully come up yet, the light shining from the dark blue water being the pre-dawn nautical twilight that occurred before dawn actually broke. THe view was breathtaking, the light shades of pink fading into almost pastel oranges, reds and purples that faded back into the darkness of night that was slowly receding.

“Your mother loved sunrises, she was a hyper person most of her adult life. But in the city seeing a sunrise is like seeing a deer- you know they exist, you’ve seen pictures and heard stories from people outside of NYC but you haven’t ever seen them yourself.” Chandler sipped his coffee slowly, enjoying the bitter taste of the black coffee.  “And she hated the fact that our apartment was blocked in like it was, but we weren’t in a spot where we could afford the house you and Erica grew up in. So one morning, I dragged her out of bed at like… God, three AM? Maybe we stayed up, I don’t really remember the details, but I got us a cab and we went to a beach somewhere- no clue where to be honest with you- and we watched the sunrise together, on some ratty ass towel that we had used for chores or something, drinking coffee and watching the sky fade into this…” He pointed to the sky as it suddenly lit up into a small sliver of bright, radiant sunshine that reflected off the water. “And she was fascinated, she wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks after we went. When we looked for a house before you two were born, she wanted a place where we could take you two to see the sunrise- and we did.”

And the two stayed like that, watching as the ball of light made its way across the eastern horizon, beginning its ascent into the sky just like any other day.

* * *

 

_ When he got the call from Rachel, he didn’t really believe it. He thought it was a joke, one cruel, sick practical joke. But when a pair of clearly rookie police officers arrived at his home within minutes of the call to inform him his wife was a vegetable in a hospital in New York City, it hit him like a freight train, taking his breath from him. He didn’t want to believe it because if he believed it was real the freight train would come back and Chandler wasn’t entirely sure he could survive that sort of hit again. _

_ Ross drove him to the hospital, or at least he was planning to, but Joey ended up driving both of them. Both of them had lost someone important to them, driving or operating a moving vehicle might have been a poor choice for either of them at the time. _

_ The numbness had set in roughly around the time Joey showed up with Ross in tow, the entire situation didn’t seem real to him, like events in a movie. He could feel the pain as if it were his own, but he could not feel its depth yet because it wasn’t entirely real for him yet. When it became real he was standing in her hospital room, hearing doctors explain to him for the third time that she wouldn’t wake up from this, that she had been declared brain dead around two hours before he arrived. That was when he began sobbing into his hands, falling on his knees as he begged god to give him back his perfect, beautiful, clean obsessed Monica. _

* * *

After staying with his son for a few days, Chandler went back to his apartment in the city. He had bought it after the funeral, selling almost all of the furniture from their home and taking the family albums and personal items with him, wanting to try to bury his ghosts. 

Of course that didn’t stop the small habits he had picked up along the way, like making two servings of every meal he made or constantly using coasters for  _ every _ cup he put on any table other than the dinning room table. And he caught himself sometimes looking over his shoulder or his side, expecting her there laughing with him or giving him the  _ look _ whenever he made a horrible joke.  He didn’t mind these small reminders, even if they really hurt when they appeared. 

He had loved Monica fully with every fiber of his being and for that he was never remorseful. She had been his reason for pushing as hard as he did, she had been his best friend and he wanted to make her life as happy as he possibly could. He spent the rest of his life span spending as much time with his friends, their laughter and friendship getting him through until the day he was able to be reunited with his perfect, beautiful, clean obsessed wife in whatever comes after this life.


End file.
